


In Which Call and Aaron Share A Bed

by ErinNox_Writes



Category: Magisterium Series - Holly Black & Cassandra Clare
Genre: Call thinks Aaron is homophobic, Call's very closed off, Calron, Confessions, First Kiss, Jasper sleeps on the floor because Jasper's a prick, M/M, Self-Hatred, TCG, The Copper Gauntlet, but no lol Aaron's so gay, that one night in the barn, very gay, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 04:18:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18865561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinNox_Writes/pseuds/ErinNox_Writes
Summary: When the gang spends the night in Alastair's hide-out barn, Call finds himself sleeping in the same bed as Aaron Stewart, which was, quite possibly, the worst thing to happen to him that night.





	In Which Call and Aaron Share A Bed

**Author's Note:**

> So I've decided to become the Magisterium fandom because this fandom is way too small and I am the biggest Magisterium fan you will ever meet (though I hate The Golden Tower don't ever speak of it). Enjoy this little thing I wrote.

 

  Call was as far as he could get away from Aaron without actually falling off the bed. He clutched the small bit of covers he had, as he’d thrown the rest to Aaron. It was cold, but he’d rather suffer. Aaron could have all the covers he wanted; Call could deal with it. He didn’t want to be rude.

  He forced back a sigh. Of course he’d be stuck like this: sharing a bed with the one person in this group he had a crush on. He’d offered to sleep on the floor, but both Tamara and Aaron had protested, saying something about his leg and how a bunch of wood boards wasn’t good for it. Little did they know how many times Call had slept on stone floors and patches of dirt. Jasper was the only one who agreed with him, thus, he was pushed to the floor space. Call had thought the rest of the night would just be endless streams of Jasper complaining, but surprisingly, he fell asleep easily, even on the wooden floor.

  Now here Call lay, his back to Aaron as he tried very hard to think about how his dream guy was sitting right behind him, his jaw probably slacked as he slept, his blonde head shining in the moonlight that streamed from the window at the top of the barn. He pictured Aaron wrapping his arms around him, pressing his nose into Call’s neck, snuggling against him in the dark.

  Then Call shook his head as his face heated up. That would never happen. Aaron wasn’t gay. He was the perfect picture of the ladies’ man, just not a jerk. Call, knowing how the world worked, figured Aaron would end up with Tamara, and he’d be left behind as the sad gay boy with a wolf and a secret that would make him even more hated.

  And if Call ever did decide to come out to Aaron (or Tamara, for that matter), he would just be pushed away. Look at where they lived. Call was from  _North_ _Carolina_. You couldn’t get to a much more homophobic area than the South. With his luck, Aaron would turn out to be aggressively homophobic, and Call would lose not only his friend, but the person he cared about most. He couldn’t handle that. He just couldn’t. Everybody had hated him his whole life, he couldn’t lose the one person who never did.

  A cold breeze shuddered the barn, making Call shiver. As he did so, a strangled sob escaped his throat, something that he did not intend to happen. He froze, hoping no one was awake and that nobody woke up because of it.

  “Call?”

  Oh no. No no no no no. Not him of all people.  _Why_  did the universe hate him so?

  He didn’t answer. Maybe Aaron would go back to sleep if he didn’t answer. However, another breeze whooshed by, and Call shivered again.

  “Are you cold?” He felt a warm hand grab his arm, then pull back almost immediately. “Call, you’re like ice.” A pause. “Why don’t you have any covers?”

  Finally, Call turned around. Aaron was halfway sitting up, one arm hovering over Call’s while the other supported his torso. His emerald eyes gleamed in the moonlight, staring into Call’s with a softness that  _immediately_  made Call’s heart melt. God, why did he have to be gay?

  “I just—I thought you wanted—I didn’t want to—I—”  _Speak, Callum_ , he chastised himself.  _Stop acting like a lovestruck idiot._

  “You have to have  _something_ , or you’ll freeze.” Aaron lifted up the covers, throwing some overtop Call’s lower half. Their fingers brushed for a moment, and Call’s heart went into overdrive. “Hey, you okay? You look a little lost.” Their faces were inches away now, and Call was so glad he wasn’t the one in the moonlight, because right now, his face was on fire.

  Aaron’s voice grew quieter. “Were you crying?” It wasn’t interrogative, just curious.

  “N-No.” Call wanted to throw himself off a cliff. He answered far too quickly; Aaron was going to know he was lying.

  Aaron leaned against the headboard, again placing his arm on top of Call’s. “Come here,” he said, motioning to the space beside him. Reluctantly, Call moved over, though he made sure to keep a few inches away. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Call whispered. None of the things he was worried about could he tell Aaron. Not the Enemy of Death thing, not his romantic problems, nothing.

  “Call, don’t lie to me.” When Call didn’t respond, Aaron scooted closer, gripping Call’s hand with his own. Red alert, red alert. “You know you can tell me anything, right? If you’re worried I’ll Tamara, I won’t.”

  Call shook his head. “It has nothing to do with her.” Great, he was crying even more. Hastily, he wiped the tears away. He never pictured this was the place where he’d be holding hands with Aaron Stewart.

  “Okay.” Aaron paused, thinking for a moment. “Does it have to do with your dad?”

  He shook his head.

  “The mission?”

  No.

  “Jasper?”

  No, he wouldn’t ever cry over Jasper.

  “Me?”

  Call froze. He couldn’t lie now, not when he’d done it enough already. But he couldn’t tell Aaron. He just  _couldn’t_. He stayed still, letting Aaron figure it out on his own.

  “What did I do?”

  Oh, god. No. “You didn’t do anything,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault. You never do anything wrong. I-It’s my fault. I—I just—it’s mine. It’s always—It’s always  _mine_.” He pulled his hand out of Aaron’s grasp, rubbing his eyes. He was so pathetic, sitting here, crying in front of his crush. Even if he didn’t tell Aaron the truth, Aaron was still going to stop talking to him for how weak he was being.

  Suddenly, Aaron wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Call leaned against him, unable to stop himself. He sat there and cried silently as Aaron rubbed his back, feeling comforted but sad at the same time. There would never be a time like this after this moment, if Call was about to do what he thought he was about to do.

  “Aaron?” he breathed, so softly he could barely hear himself.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m gay.”

  A short pause. “That’s what’s eating you up inside?”

  “Y-Yeah.” He’d let Aaron believe that.

  “It shouldn’t. That’s totally fine.”

  Call blinked. “What?”

  Aaron chuckled. “It’s just attraction. Call, I’m not going to hate you for who you’re interested in.”

  This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening; Call must be dreaming. There was no way Aaron was this good of a person. People _weren’t_  this nice.

  He sat up, and Aaron lowered his arm. Call gazed at him, just studying his face. He looked real: he was alive and breathing, and his eyes were still shining, pupils dilated in the dark. But he was perfect. His hair, his face, his broad shoulders and athletic arms, and he wasn’t homophobic?

  “You’re not real,” Call said out loud.

  “What?” Aaron asked, not unsurprisingly. His eyebrows furrowed together as he did so, and god, was he cute. Call was melting.

  “You’re not real,” he repeated. “You’re too perfect. There’s nothing bad about you.”

  “Call, what do you mean?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, Call leaned forward, placing his hands on Aaron’s cheeks as he kissed him. It was more or less everything Call had dreamed of. Even his lips, with rough edges and a wonderful foreign taste, were perfect.

  It didn’t last long, as Call’s reality came crashing down around him almost immediately. Hastily, he jerked back, starting to crawl backwards toward the other side of the bed. What had he done? How could he be such an idiot? Aaron would surely hate him now, he—

  “Call!” Aaron whisper-screamed, only a bit too late. Before he could stop himself, Call fell backward, off the bed. He hit the floor quickly, as it was only a foot and a half away, but he fell head-first, and that head started to throb. He lay there, his bad leg still barely hanging onto the bed, too defeated to try to get up.

  Then Aaron’s face appeared over the side of the bed. “You okay?” he asked, his expression one of worry.

  “Just leave me here,” Call responded, deliberately ignoring the question. “Let me wallow in my misery.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so.” Aaron climbed off the bed, bending down to help Call stand up. Call didn’t really help all that much, so it was surprising when Aaron pulled him back onto his feet with ease. He sweeped Call’s legs up off the ground, which was _even more surprising_ , placing him down on the bed. He made a big show of tucking him in, bundling him up in pretty much all the covers that were on the bed. Then he climbed overtop Call, carefully avoiding his legs, landing beside him on the mattress.

  “Now  _you_  don’t have any blankets,” Call said quietly, gripping the sheets tightly.

  “I guess I’ll just have to come closer, then,” Aaron responded. He sidled up right next to Call, placing his arm back around his shoulders. Call knew he was blushing again, but there was a worry growing in the forefront of his mind that overshadowed his embarrassment.

  “You  _do_  remember what just happened, right?” Call looked away from him, staring at his knuckles.

  “Yeah.” Aaron’s arm felt perfect on his shoulders, rubbing his arm softly. He didn’t want it, or him, to move, but he knew the ramifications if it stayed.

  “Then why haven’t you shoved me off the bed yet?” This was undoubtedly weird, and definitely not like anything Call had pictured, realistic or not.

  Aaron’s breath was hot on Call’s ear as he spoke again. “Because I’ve been wanting to do this.”

  Call turned sharply to face him. “Do wha—”

  He was cut off, his words dying in his throat as Aaron kissed him. He was able to properly enjoy the kiss this time, as after a few shocked seconds where Aaron didn’t pull away, he turned his whole body around, cupping Aaron’s face like he had before. Aaron’s hands snaked around him, one gripping his hair and the other resting on his waist. It was the most exhilarating thing Call had ever experienced. Aaron’s lips were even more wonderful now that he was reciprocating the attention, and Call couldn’t stop wanting to taste more of them. He had no doubt in his mind that Aaron was a Makar, as this kiss was the most powerful magic he’d ever experienced. And _he_ was the Enemy of Death.

  He didn’t know which of them pulled away first. It almost seemed like it was at the same time, but he couldn’t be sure. They were both panting: cheeks flushed, lips swollen, Call’s hands still on Aaron’s cheeks. He pulled away quickly, mumbling a, “Sorry.” That was when he noticed Aaron’s hands were still on his hips.

  Aaron pulled him closer, leaning back and allowing Call to rest on his chest. “I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” he said, voice just deep enough to send shivers down Call’s spine.

  “You have?”

  “Yeah, I just never had the courage to.” He smiled halfheartedly, letting out a small laugh. “I’d thought you’d turn me down.”

  “Not in a million years,” Call breathed. “I’ve liked you ever since we met. You were the hottest thing at the Iron Trial.”

  Aaron’s smile grew. “Really? I think I remember you setting fire to a balloon.”

  Call waved his hand dismissively. “Pft. That piece of plastic had nothing on you.”

  They lapsed into a comfortable silence, just gazing at each other. Aaron reached up, pushing Call’s dark hair out of his face. Call moved forward, sliding off Aaron’s chest and lying beside him, trying to get as close as possible. Aaron wrapped an arm around him, placing a delicate kiss to his forehead. Call wondered how he was so good at this. To his knowledge, Aaron had never dated before, and he kind of hoped that was the case. He didn’t want to know that Aaron had been this close with someone before.

  “Don’t ever hate yourself for being gay, okay?” Aaron spoke up, his voice hushed. “It’s not something you have to be scared of.”

  “But I can hate myself for other things, right?” Call grinned as his own joke, but all he could think about was the overarching fact that even right here, right now, he was lying to Aaron. He didn’t deserve everything Aaron was giving him. He was a monster; Aaron should hate him.

  Aaron was playing with Call’s hair. “I’d like it better if you didn’t hate yourself at all.”

  Call’s smile faltered. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look directly at Aaron as he continued to be selfish. “What if I can’t do that?”

  “Then I’ll just show you why you shouldn’t hate yourself. I’ll show you that all the things you’re worried about don’t matter.”

  He had to bite back a laugh. Yeah, like being the reincarnation of the Enemy of Death himself didn’t matter.

  Maybe he should just tell Aaron. Maybe Aaron, being the genuinely nice human being he was, wouldn’t try to kill Call himself. Maybe he would understand. Maybe Call could make him understand. Maybe, just maybe, if Aaron was a true perfect angel on earth, he would even keep Call’s secret.

  He figured, it must be worth the shot. He couldn’t keep this secret forever, and he couldn’t keep manipulating Aaron like this when he didn’t know. Aaron had a right to know. He, as both the boy Call wanted more than anything and as the Makar, _deserved_  to know.

  Call opened his eyes. “Aaron,” he whispered, his heart beating loudly in his ears.

  “Yeah?”

  “I need to tell you something. But I want you to promise me something first.” He was fighting to keep his breath steady. He felt like the world was going to close in on him before he even got to finish.

  “Of course.”

  “Promise me you won’t hate me? Please?”  _Please_ , he thought again, though he didn’t say it. He couldn’t keep begging for Aaron to do something he shouldn’t have to do. He had every right to hate Call.

  Aaron gripped his hand suddenly, forcing Call to look up. His eyes, beautiful emeralds that reflected every ounce of goodness inside him, were sincere. “I will  _never_  hate you.  _Never_. Okay? Nothing you can say can change my mind. Hey, whatever it is, it’s okay. I won’t hate you.”

  Call took a shaky breath. “Promise?”

  Aaron’s grip on his hand grew tighter. “I promise.”

  Call nodded, trying to regain some of his composure. He could do this. All he had to do was speak. Aaron wouldn’t hate him — _Aaron wouldn’t hate him_  — so he had nothing to worry about. He opened his mouth…

  Then Havoc started barking.


End file.
